


Reservation Gone Wrong #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 20

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffableValentines2020, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Gay Sex, M/M, Sex, Speed Demon, Valentines, crowley is a speed demon, ineffable valentines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: Bad luck comes in threes, this time it starts with Crowley's flight reservation gone wrong, and Aziraphale's ferry plans gone awry, then as the third in the set of 3 bits of bad luck, Aziraphale accidentally makes a mistake booking them accommodation on online with a foreign language website, which leads to something Crowley didn't expect.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Valentines 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618783
Comments: 39
Kudos: 169
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020, Top Crowley Library





	Reservation Gone Wrong #IneffableValentines2020 prompt 20

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).



Crowley stood at the SAS (Scandinavian Airlines System) check in desk at London Heathrow, and hissed through his teeth in frustration. “I’m sorry, sir but all the flights are cancelled due to bad weather, you’ll get a meal voucher and a hotel voucher and will be prioritised for the first flight when the weather has cleared but that might be a day or two.”

“Forget it, cancel the damn tickets, I’m on a deadline.” He strode out back toward the car park and the Bentley. He flung his bag on the back seat and sped off. He headed out onto the M25 southbound and off toward the M25, the M26, then the M20, thundering through Kent, dodging a line of lorries headed for Dover. He pulled off at the Eurotunnel exit and checked himself in. 20 minutes until the next train, he slunk into the terminal to get himself some overpriced, badly made coffee, and sat down to wait for his letter to be called to load the car onto the Le Shuttle train which would whisk them off under the Channel, hundreds of metres under the sea bed and across to France. He could drive to Sweden faster on the mainland than waiting for the damn plane.

“Crowley?” a surprised and familiar voice greeted him. He looked up into the ever beautiful face of Aziraphale, clutching a cup of tea, a bag in one hand. “Fancy meeting you here!” Crowley raised his eyebrows in surprise and nudged a chair out with his toe in an invitation for the angel to take a seat.

“What’re you doing here, Aziraphale?” Crowley sipped at his coffee and pulled a face at the bitter brew.

“Well I was booked on the ferry but the sea is too rough and they’ve postponed the crossings so I thought I’d pop up here and take the train instead, you?”

“Similar. Flights cancelled, so brought the Bentley. Where you off to?”

“Gothenburg, Sweden, I was going to get the ferry over then public transport the rest of the way.”

“Huh. Mälmo, Sweden. What are the odds, bit south of where you’re headed. Some blessings or miracles going on then?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Temptations and curses?”

Crowley murmured assent and sipped more coffee. “Wish you’d told me, only one of us could have gone. Want me to take care of yours while I’m there?”

Aziraphale pondered for a moment. “Why don’t we both go anyway? You’ve got quite a road trip ahead of you, it might be fun, just the two of us.”

Crowley considered it. The angel was usually good company. “Sure, why not. I still plan to drive fast, mind. Especially once we hit the autobahn, it’s pretty much encouraged there anyway. The Germans do make such good roads for getting your foot down on.”

Aziraphale beamed. “I’m sure I’ll cope, dear. Oh look, they’re calling the cars for the next train, is that your letter?”

Crowley glanced at the information board. “Yup. Come on, Angel.”

They settled into the Bentley and inched their way forward, following the marshall’s instructions. Due to the size of the old car, they were put into the double height coach and van carriage which had more room at the sides, rather than the regular double decker car carriages for the short, twenty minute crossing to Calais.

With a barely perceptible shunt, they were moving and picking up speed, and in no time were plunging deep under the channel, ears popping at the depth. Shortly afterwards, Crowley’s mobile picked up the French phone network and they were emerging into the gloomy rainy skies of France and driving off the train and changing sides of the road to take on off up the autoroute toward Belgium.

Crowley breezed through the télépéage toll booths, in lieu of a sanef transponder, simply waving his hand at the receiver to miracle it into obedience and lifting the barrier for him to charge through, barely slowing. Aziraphale considered the signs for a motorway services coming up. The French tended to actually bother making decent restaurants in some of their aires, and he was rather peckish, as the Eurotunnel terminal fare left a lot to be desired.

“Crowley, might we be able to pull in and get a spot of lunch, perhaps?”

Crowley sighed theatrically. “Fine, but no snacks for the car. I absolutely will not have you dropping crumbs on the upholstery, or the carpet for that matter, ok?”

He pulled into the next aire and strolled in with Aziraphale, sitting to watch him tuck in to his lunch with relish. “Aziraphale…” Crowley began, as the angel pulled his dessert plate of crêpes toward him, “D’you think after this you might be able to keep a lid on the hunger thing for a few hundred miles? I’m on a bit of a deadline and we can’t be stopping every few minutes for you to sample the local delicacies.”

Aziraphale looked affronted. Then he smirked.

“What, don’t you think the Bentley’s speed can compensate for a few rest stops?” he teased.

Crowley grit his teeth and scowled. He couldn’t let the challenge go unanswered.

“’Course not.”

“Well then…” Aziraphale took a bite from his fork, the crêpe dripping with cream and syrup. He looked smug. Crowley growled under his breath.

Soon they were barrelling down the autoroute, the speedo nudging 100mph. The local gendarmes scrambled into their van to give chase, only to find all four wheels flat. The speed cameras mysteriously failed to flash and malfunctioned as the Bentley whizzed past.

Crossing the border to Belgium, Aziraphale insisted they pause for a few minutes to grab some Chocolates, but Crowley forbade him from eating them in the car, insisting that they save them for later instead.

Crowley had put some new CDs in the car, so hopefully they’d stay the music they were meant to be for at least a week, possibly 2 weeks before the inevitable happened and they devolved into Best Of Queen albums. They might as well make the most of it. He put on some Debussy for Aziraphale for a bit, then switched to some classic rock and random 70s and 80s stuff for himself for a while. He was surprised that Aziraphale actually enjoyed Mr Blue Sky by ELO, and tried to tempt him with a bit more in a similar vein. He wasn’t averse to some Pink Floyd, and didn’t object to some Velvet Underground or David Bowie. Maybe the road trip wouldn’t be quite as bad after all.

Crossing the border into the Netherlands didn’t take long at all, although Aziraphale did insist on stopping again to get some Frikandellen before they carried on again across into Germany in the late afternoon.

Crowley grinned as soon as the first properly derestricted stretch of autobahn came up, not because he cared about speed limits, but because it was easier when the rest of the traffic was cooperative and he didn’t have to constantly miracle them out of his way. He could just plant his foot to the floor and embarrass all the aggressive Audi and BMW drivers, leaving them eating his exhaust smoke. The other drivers politely made room for him to charge through without complaint. He soon left behind him a trail of broken down Audis on the hard shoulder whose drivers had tried too hard to keep up with him, taking it as a personal challenge, and blown their engines up in the attempt. A trail of pieces of blown turbos, cracked valves and thrown pistons scattered the tarmac behind them. 

Aziraphale gripped the edges of his seat in sheer terror. He’d gone fast with Crowley before of course, but never anything like this. True, this wasn’t weaving through traffic in central London, but it was still faster than the angel had ever travelled in a vehicle in his life. The speedo had run out of numbers, and the needle was off the edge of the dial, quivering. No mechanical power was in charge here, that had topped out some miles back. Now the Bentley was feeding directly off Crowley’s demonic power, which was more potent than any supercharger or nitrous oxide setup.

Crowley’s booted foot was pressing the accelerator all the way deep into the carpet, hands tight on the wheel, grinning, well …. demonically. Aziraphale could  _ feel _ the Bentley was enjoying itself too, he could feel its happiness and satisfaction radiating around them, it had a sort of sentience after decades of demonic possession.

The engine was screaming, as the miracled power surged through the drivetrain, the oil being likewise miraculously kept cool enough to counter the massive heat build-up from the friction in the moving parts, the pistons hammering at a rate they were never designed to sustain. For Crowley, metal fatigue was something that happened to other people. His sheer force of will was supressing the vibration through the chassis and bodywork, holding the car together against the massive forces at play. If Aziraphale had to guess, they’d likely nudged close to 200mph at least.

Crowley did consent to ease up only a little once off the derestricted autobahn, but still came nowhere close to obeying the speed limits. They thundered on through North Germany as night fell, determined to make the Danish border before dawn, but first they had to navigate the driving hell that was the motorway improvements around Hamburg.

Aziraphale glanced across at Crowley. He may be having fun, but driving beyond the physical limits of the car meant using his demonic power and doing so for extended periods of time was physically tiring him out. If he carried on, he might lose concentration, and risk discorporating them both.

“Crowley, I really think we should take a rest for a few hours, you can’t keep this up indefinitely.”

“Gotta get there, Aziraphale.” Crowley hissed through clenched teeth.

“You’re getting too tired, Crowley, you need rest or you’ll lose your grip on all this and heaven above knows what’ll happen then.”

“Fine.” The demon passed his phone over to Aziraphale. “Google for a hotel near our route and get us booked in somewhere, fling it on my credit card.”

Aziraphale fumbled with the unfamiliar phone, but eventually managed to find a hotel that might suit them. He had no idea how to even begin booking online, and his German was rather rusty, but he gave it a go, tapping likely buttons until a green tick appeared on the screen. “I think that’s it” he announced. “Take the exit in about five miles.”

The “hotel” turned out to be a b’n’b. Crowley parked up outside and the Bentley made gentle “pink-pink” noises as hot metal cooled down and shrank under the bonnet. He patted her proudly. “Good girl” he murmured under his breath, smiling.

Their host came to the door, looking momentarily confused. “Oh there is two of you!” The lady exclaimed. “I am sorry, the booking did not say.” Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, who shrugged apologetically.

Angela, their host, led them to the spare bedroom on the second floor, which turned out to be a single bed. “This is only one room, one bed, I do not have a spare, I am sorry” she hesitated. Aziraphale blushed.

“Terribly sorry, it was all a bit last minute, and I didn’t understand the website very well, but we will be just fine, it’s quite alright, thank you so much for putting us up at such short notice, we’re very grateful.” She smiled at them and withdrew, closing the door behind her.

Crowley looked at him. “There’s one bed, Angel.”

“Yes, well, it’s better than sleeping in the car, come on.” He sat on the end of the bed and took his shoes off, then grabbed his wash kit from his bag and padded through to the ensuite bathroom to freshen up.

Shortly after, he emerged, clad in tartan pyjamas, and indicated that the bathroom was free for Crowley. He decided to take a hot shower to ease off the stress of the day, and emerged, clad only in a towel, to find Aziraphale already in bed, uncharacteristically sleepy for once, pushed all the way against the wall, leaving a space for Crowley next to him. He seemed to have already nodded off.

Crowley rubbed his damp hair dry and miracled up some black silk pyjamas, before sliding between the cool sheets next to the angel. Aziraphale murmured happily in his sleep, and suddenly an arm was wrapped around Crowley’s chest from behind, and Aziraphale was snuggling up against his back.

Crowley went very still, eyes wide, his heart going berserk. He remembered to breathe after a while, and thought things through. Aziraphale was asleep, Aziraphale was hugging him. Aziraphale was  _ spooning _ him. This was… nice? He didn’t want it to stop. He was ok, nothing bad was happening. On the contrary, this was the nicest thing that he could ever remember happening to him. He decided to go with it and relaxed into the embrace. He placed one hand over the angel’s and gave it a little squeeze. Before long he had also drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The alarm on Crowley’s phone woke him at 6am. He jolted awake and was momentarily confused to find himself cuddling a sleepy angel. At some point in the night they must have moved about, and now he was the big spoon. He was also embarrassingly aware of his morning wood pressed up against Aziraphale’s soft buttocks. He was even more mortified to find that the arm he had wrapped around Aziraphale was resting over his crotch area, and the angel was apparently as hard as he was.

He froze, panicking. Then Aziraphale murmured and wriggled his backside against Crowley slightly.

Holy  _ fuck _ .

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t draw breath, he couldn’t move. Goddamnit he couldn’t  _ move _ !

The only moving his body wanted to do was not the sort of movement the rational part of his brain was willing to authorise, but fuck it, when the angel wriggled back on him  _ again _ his hips rebelled and he found himself inadvertently grinding back against those deliciously soft buttocks. He felt Aziraphale’s cock twitch under his hand and the angel moaned. Crowley’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gritted his teeth with a shudder. He had to stop this.

He mustered every ounce of self-control at his disposal and stilled his body, trying to get his breathing and frantic heart under control.

Then Aziraphale’s hand fell on top of his where it rested loosely over the angel’s crotch, and pressed it more firmly against his hardness.

_ OhFuckOhFuckOhFuckOhFuckOhFuck…. _

And then the now, clearly, half-awake angel was rubbing himself forward onto Crowley’s hand. Crowley held still, afraid to move again, then Aziraphale was turning his head back, gazing at Crowley over his shoulder with still sleep-drunk eyes, blue grey in the early morning light, framed by beautiful soft lashes. His lips parted gently as he locked eyes with the demon, and rocked his hips into his hand. He let out a breathy moan, and Crowley was done for.

Crowley leant forward and held his nose close to Aziraphale’s skin below his ear, breathing in his gorgeous scent. He tentatively pressed a feather light kiss to his cheek. Aziraphale’s hand left his on top of his stiff cock, and came up to cradle Crowley’s head next to his, pulling him forward until their lips met.

Crowley moaned into the kiss, meltingly soft, his whole body seeming to go liquid. Aziraphale’s fingers were in his hair, trailing fire wherever they touched. The world stood still for a moment.

Aziraphale’s hand fell from Crowley’s face and dipped under the covers again to take the demon’s hand, lift it from his crotch, and reposition it, sliding it under the elasticated waistband of his pyjamas to make direct skin to skin contact with the velvety smooth hardness of his shaft. Crowley felt dizzy, he closed his eyes and bit at his lips, relishing the touch at last of the angel’s cock in his hand. He wrapped his fingers around it and gave a gentle stroke. Aziraphale rolled his hips into the sensation with a groan.

Crowley resumed rutting his own hips against Aziraphale’s, delighting in the slippery slide of the silk over his cock, frotting against the angel’s arse. He growled into Aziraphale’s ear possessively and was rewarded with the sight of goosebumps breaking out over his skin in response. He bit gently at the angel’s neck in little nips, each one drawing forth delighted gasps from Aziraphale’s lips.

He felt Aziraphale trying to wriggle his pyjama bottoms down, and paused in his own task to assist, then roughly yanking his own down as well, before returning to stroking Aziraphale and kissing his neck, licking, sucking and nipping at it. “What do you want, Angel?” he whispered hoarsely, pressing himself close, his cock sliding up and down the crack of Aziraphale’s arse. The angel’s breath caught in his throat and he moaned, grinding back against Crowley. 

“I want  _ you _ , Crowley, that’s all I ever wanted.”

Crowley thought for a moment, not stilling his hand, then decided to increase his pace and bring the angel off before proceeding with his plans. He tightened his grip and felt the angel shudder into his embrace, breath coming in short, pained gasps, until suddenly he was spurting over the demon’s hand with a strangled sob. 

Crowley kissed him again, then brought his suddenly lubed fingers around to Aziraphale’s backside, pressing gently against his tight hole, working one in with patient insistence, working it deeper, listening carefully to the angel’s encouraging whimpers and the tenseness of his body to ensure he wasn’t asking too much too soon. He then introduced a second finger and set about loosening Aziraphale up a little more, to rapturous cries from the angel as his long skilled fingers brushed up against his prostate, sending a cascade of silver stars behind his lover’s eyes. 

Feeling Aziraphale loosen up around his fingers, he added a third, taking his time to do this right, relieved to hear from the angel’s ecstatic cries that he was enjoying this. “Crowley,” he gasped. “Please, my love, take me.” Crowley pressed more loving kisses to the angel’s neck, withdrew his hand and slathered a bit more miracled lubrication onto his achingly stiff cock. He lined up carefully and held Aziraphale tight, kissing him and murmuring into his soft skin, then pressed forward carefully, sinking a mere fraction of his length into his welcoming arse. 

“Crowley, love, please, more…” Azirpahale gasped, trying to push back on him. Crowley stilled his hips with a gentling hand, and pushed himself forward a little more, anxious not to hurt his love with his not inconsiderable length. He refused to be rushed for Aziraphale’s own sake, and sank gradually deeper, shaking with restraint at how good it felt, how gorgeously tight around his cock. He withdrew a little, and then pushed forward again, drawing another delighted cry from Aziraphale’s throat. 

The angel reached behind him blindly to claw at Crowley’s hips, trying to drag him deeper, and Crowley complied, still straining to keep steady, sinking in further until he couldn’t press any deeper. His angle allowing his cockhead to rub delightfully over his lover’s prostate. He groaned and bit down gently at the back of Aziraphale’s neck, pulling him close and rolling his hips into him. 

He was struggling for purchase in his sideways spooning position however, so held Aziraphale firm, and rolled them both over, so the angel was face down and he was lying on top of him, still sunk deep inside his love. He encouraged Aziraphale to lift his hips a little and followed with him until he was knelt behind his angel, and proceeded to pick up the pace, thrusting into him more firmly, getting a little more depth. Aziraphale gasped and moaned with every thrust, grabbing at the sheets below him. Crowley grew bolder and began slamming into him harder, encouraged by the angel’s cries, feeling incredibly possessive and primal, a low growl rising in his throat, until his teeth clenched and his lips drew into a snarl and he was spurting deep inside his love, muscles quivering with his release. 

He stayed there for a few moments, hunching over Aziraphale’s back and kissing him lightly, regaining his breath, relishing the feel of the angel’s hot body shaking underneath him. Crowley straightened up and very slowly withdrew. He placed a gentle kiss on Aziraphale’s buttocks, then lay down next to him. Aziraphale leaned over him and gazed adoringly down at his demon, before dipping down for a proper deep kiss. 

“That was beautiful, my love.”

Crowley huffed a half laugh. That wasn’t at all how he’d forseen any of this going. He wondered how much of it the angel had set up, but decided not to ask. He pulled him close into an embrace, kissing him again. Aziraphale then lay his head on Crowley’s chest and held him tenderly. “I suppose we had better get going then, before the roads get too busy?”

Crowley nodded. They still had a lot of ground to cover, but then the return trip, well… they didn’t have to rush the way back, did they? He stroked Aziraphale’s hair. This trip just got rather more interesting, not to mention enjoyable. He contemplated the thousands of miles they still had to cover before they were back in the UK again and smiled to himself. “How about on the way back, we book a ferry, get a cabin, and take our time, Angel?”

Aziraphale smiled up at him. “Sounds good to me.” And kissed him again. 


End file.
